Life after life
by elerosse13
Summary: The last duel between Harry and Voldemort ended a little differently than planned. Harry finds himself somewhere very familiar yet he's utterly lost. NOT SLASH!
1. Chapter 1

_Hi this a story I'm writing as a way of getting out of a writer's block, it may or may not be continued.  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything.  
_

* * *

 **When one door closes…**

 _Our story begins from the moment Harry had been carried back onto Hogwarts grounds, by a heartbroken Hagrid from the forbidden forest. The Dark Lord is secure in the knowledge that Harry is dead and that he himself has won the war. Harry has made it into the castle and is now about to cast, what he hopes is, his last spell against Voldemort…_

 _Harry didn't dare look away from the red eyes of his opponent but he knew his friends were there, knew all hope was on him defeating their enemy. He wished that things had gone differently, that so many innocent hadn't died for the greater good. He hoped that the conclusion he'd come to, regarding the wand, was the right one._  
 _"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort screamed, malice evident in his eyes and voice._  
 _"Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled at the same time, putting all of his hopes and wishes for a better present and future into his spell. The spells met in the centre of the circle the two had been treading._  
 _Green light met the light from his own spell and the Elder wand shot up into the air from the Dark Lords hand._  
 _Voldemort fell backwards, at the same time, Harry finally caught hold of the last of the Deathly Hallow and became the true Master of Death._  
 _The world held its breath, time seemingly stopped and Harry's vision turned a blinding white._

The scar on his forehead burnt painfully for a second before abruptly stopping, lightning flashed and an unholy screech filled the air.  
Harry opened his eyes slowly, blinking a couple of times as he eyed the darkness above, where on earth was he now he wondered. His ears were ringing and his body felt like ice, cold and stiff.  
Tall stone pillars, lit up from below by what looked like lamps, stood in a circle around him and the open star strewn night sky looked down at him.  
Harry squinted at the stones, wondering where his glasses were, the stones looked familiar but he couldn't quite place them. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and memories. Merlin, but he was tired. So very, very tired. He opened his mouth to call out to Ron, Hermione or whoever might be out there, but the words caught in his throat. He tried again to call out Ron's name and frowned as nothing came out.  
Shifting slightly on the ground he grimaced as his muscles ached in protest.  
"Hello." He slurred, glad to hear his own voice, he hadn't gone mute then he mused.

A loud crack broke the silence of the night, shortly followed by a second. Apparition, Harry thought as whoever it was moved closer. But he didn't care, he was too tired to do anything but lie where he was and wait for them to find him.  
"State you name and come out where i can see you!" A voice ordered tersely from nearby. Harry turned his head slightly and saw the blurry outline of a cloaked person.

"Blimey Timmy! He hasn't got any clothes on!" A second voice exclaimed in surprise. Harry listened as the two people moved nearer to where he was.

"Keep your hands where I can see them boy!" The first voice, belonging to the Timmy person ordered as he stepped nearer to Harry. A short moment passed before a cloak was draped over Harry's naked body.  
"You alright lad?" The man asked, touching Harry's shoulder gently. Harry squinted at him, pretty sure that it was an Auror, but he couldn't be certain.

"There's nobody else here Timmy! He's been dumped I think." The second man stated, stepping closer too. Harry frowned and wondered where the others were, he'd been surrounded by people a moment ago after all.

"What's your name lad?" Timmy asked again, moving closer to look Harry in the eye.

"Harry." Harry rasped, blinking tiredly.  
"Harry…Harry…" He frowned, why couldn't he say Potter? He tried again to the same result, no words came out. He slowly raised his hand and brushed his bangs away, waiting for them to recognise him based on his scar but no gasp came.

"Saint Mungos you reckon?" The second man asked, sounding slightly unsure.

"I think it's for the best, Cadet Jones." Timmy answered, making Harry sigh. He was too tired to move, too tired to argue. He just wanted to close his eyes for a moment and forget everything.

Harry woke in a soft bed, surrounded by a white curtain, he knew the scent of Hospital Wing well enough to know he was in one.  
The memory of being found by strangers caught up with him and he slowly sat up in the bed. His muscles felt like jelly, a bit as if he'd overdone it during Quidditch practice.  
The curtain suddenly sprang aside and a woman dressed in lime green robes gave him a pleased look.  
"Good, you're awake. How do you feel? Headache? Muscle ache?" She asked, stepping closer. She cast some diagnostic spells on him and pursed her lips.  
"Not quite right yet, another booster and you'll feel much better!" She stalked off before he had a chance to answer her question or ask some of his own, making him sigh heavily.

"Harpies the lot of them! Women, I tell you!" A man in the adjoining cubicle ranted, giving him an annoyed look and motioned to where the healer had disappeared through the doorway.  
"My wife caught me with my pants down so to say, she wasn't happy I'll tell you! And those bloody healers, women most of them, threatened to leave things down there as they were when they heard why I was in." The man grumbled, pointing at his nether region with a wince.

Harry blinked once before quickly turning away, glad to hear the healer moving closer to them again.  
"You keep your mouth shut Mr Hootey! This is a place for healing and I won't have you disturbing the other patients with your chatter!" The healer scolded, quickly stepping into Harry's cubicle and pulling the curtain close behind her. The man's answer was turned into a muffled mumbling and Harry guessed that the curtain had some kind of silencing charm on it.  
"Now then, Harry isn't it? Bottoms up!" She held a goblet to his lips with an expectant look on her face. Harry didn't argue, he just drained it to her obvious delight.  
"I knew you were a right darling the moment I saw you! Good boy." She said cheerfully, patting his cheek, as Harry gagged at the revolting taste. He felt better almost immediately, his tired limbs felt lighter and his head stopped buzzing.  
"Let's have a little chat shall we." She sat down on a tall stool beside his bed and gave him a sunny smile.  
"Name?" She asked, after placing a quill on a rolled out piece of parchment.

"Harry-Harry…" He frowned.  
"Harry…" He couldn't say Potter, the word got stuck on his tongue like glue.

"Hm, how about your age?" The healer asked, after having observed Harry struggle for a moment.

"Seventeen." Harry said, feeling better.  
"…" He opened and closed his mouth before frowning. He'd attempted to say Potter again, but nothing.

"Parent's name?" She continued.

"…" Harry sighed. He had their names there at the tip of his tongue.  
"…" He tried again. Nothing.

"School?" She asked eyeing Harry with curious eyes. Harry opened his mouth and closed it again without having made a sound.  
"Hm, I'll have someone come and see you shortly Harry. Not to worry though darling, we'll have you sorted out before you know it." She patted Harry's arm gently before slipping out behind the curtain and making sure it fell close behind her. Harry sat alone in the cubicle wondering what in Merlin's name was going on.

An hour later, after a small breakfast consisting of tea and toast, he was being seen by a Senior Healer and what had to be a student healer.  
"Please state your full name." The Healer asked, eyeing Harry in interest. Harry, who opened his mouth to answer, tipped sideways in bed as a bout of sudden vertigo made the world spin.  
"I'm fine." The Healer muttered as he too seemed to have been affected. He leaned against Harry's bed as the younger wizard helped Harry to a seated position again.  
"What happened yesterday, before you were found by the Aurors?" The Healer asked, looking Harry in the eye again. The world tilted again and Harry groaned. The Healer was attempting Legilimency and it clearly wasn't working the way it was supposed to. Harry closed his eyes and tried to fight off the dizziness that made his head spin.  
"He's clearly had his memory tampered with!" The Healer stated in an annoyed tone, seemingly annoyed that he wasn't making any progress.  
"Some sort of memory block, a strong one too." He added glaring at Harry, who slowly opened his eyes again, before softening his look.  
"How do you feel otherwise Harry?" He asked, sitting down on the same stool the female Healer had sat in earlier.

"Fine. A bit tired I guess." Harry answered, glad the man had decided not to try Legilimency again.

"We were expecting you to feel drained as you came in with magical exhaustion. Perhaps you fought against whoever it was that caused your current memory block." The healer mused.  
"Do you have any family or friends we can contact?" he continued, sighing as Harry shook his head. Harry frowned at himself, as he'd clearly intended to nod.  
"Do you have somewhere to stay?" he asked, getting another shake in response by a still frowning Harry. Harry was feeling frustrated now, he'd nodded but his head had shook itself. He could stay at, he frowned again. That place Sirius left him, the house with the screaming portrait of Mrs Black. Why couldn't he remember the name or the address any more? He tried calling for Kreacher but to no use, the elf's name wouldn't cross his lips.  
"I will have a word with Auror Timmons and see if they've heard any word about anyone missing you. I'm sure your relatives are worried." The healer said, making Harry snort.

"They're muggles and they hate magic and by definition me." Harry stated before blinking in surprise.  
"They're called… my relatives are the…" He sighed and slumped in the bed, feeling cross with himself. Why was he being stopped from saying things? He remembered the Dursley's after all, it's not as if he could ever forget them.

"You are muggleborn then?" The healer asked, looking pleased that they'd accomplished finding that out. Harry shook his head confusing the man further.

"No, my parents were wizards, but they were killed when I was a baby. I grew up with…With the…With muggles." Harry said, annoyed at having to choose his words.

"I'm sorry to hear of your parent's death Harry." The Healer said sympathetically.

"They died a long time ago." Harry muttered.  
"It was you-know-who." Harry said, lifting his bangs.  
"I was left with this." He showed them the scar, surely the men could figure out who he was now. The Healer and his student both leaned closer eyeing his scar but no look of recognition came into their eyes and Harry frowned again.  
"Do you have a mirror I could use?" Harry asked, perhaps someone had disguised him. The Healer nodded and summoned one for him to gaze into. He looked the same as always, well as far as he could tell without his glasses anyway. Messy hair, scar and green eyes. Harry Potter in the flesh.

"Have you live with the muggles since the downfall of He-who-must not-be-named?" The man asked, getting a nod from Harry.  
"Did you attend Hogwarts? No, but you were given lessons in magic? Yes." The healer seemed pleased that Harry could answer yes or no questions, whilst Harry felt like he was going mad. Why was his head doing the opposite of what he wanted.  
"Have you taken your Newt's? No." He gave the scowling Harry a patient smile.  
"How about your Owl's? No…I had hoped we could check the Ministry school grade records but I guess that won't work." The healer looked stumped, as Harry fumed at not being able to make his voice heard.  
"You didn't have any personal objects when the Aurors found you. Where did you get your wand? Did you have a wand?" He asked.

"I had a wand." Harry said, before opening his mouth to say that he'd bought it of Mr Ollivander. But no words again.

"Did you buy it at Ollivander's wand shop?" The Healer asked before giving a frustrated sigh and frowning, mirroring Harry who'd shook his head again.  
"My, but you're a difficult one aren't you!?" He groused. He and the student left after saying they'd be back later. Harry had to have his eyes sorted out and the healer still had a few questions and charms he wanted to try out. Harry was left to his thoughts again.

"Mr… Harry." A man cleared his throat as the healer who'd taken away his lunch tray left.  
"Auror Timmons, I took you here yesterday." The man introduced himself, stepping closer to Harry's bed, making Harry nod. He kind of remembered the man.

"Trainee John Jones. You're my first nudey." A second voice interjected excitedly, making Harry glance towards the curtain opening where an excited looking man was standing.  
"Where is the coffee, Jones?" Auror Timmons asked, glaring at the younger man, who blanched before disappearing from view. The Auror sighed deeply before turning back to look at Harry.  
"I hear the Healers suspect you've had your memory tampered with. What do you remember?" He asked, making Harry straighten in the bed.

"My name is Harry…I'm seventeen. I study…I went…I live…I grew up in… the muggle world." Harry had to force the words out, trying different ways of saying the same thing to see if it would come out or not.  
"I'm the…the…my friends call me…" Harry couldn't believe what was happening to him. He couldn't even ask for Ron or Hermione, let alone say he was the boy who lived.  
"I have a scar." Harry said triumphantly, pulling his bangs away. The Auror leaned forwards, gave his scar a glance before leaning back with a nod.

"Do you know who gave it to you? Do you remember what spell they used?" The Auror asked eyeing him seriously. Harry blinked and traced the scar to make sure it was still there, it was. What were the odds of both healers and the Auror not recognising his very famous scar he wondered?

"You don't know?" Harry asked, after a moment of choosing his words.

"Sorry lad, the Healers only found that you're exhausted magically, they couldn't tell what spells if any had been used on you. One of the worst cases of exhaustion they've seen for a while apparently. Anything you remember can help Harry." He said, leaning forwards.

Harry frowned again, the Auror seriously didn't know who he was.  
"It was you-know-who." Harry said, happy to have been able to say it out loud.

The Auror nodded, a look of remembrance appeared on his face.  
"The scar? Oh yes, the healer mentioned that you said you had lost your parents as a young child. I'm sorry for your loss." Auror Timmons said, making Harry sigh.  
"Can you name a teacher you've had? Your mother's name? How about the current Minister of Magic?" The Auror asked question after question and Harry tried to answer them as best he could. The trainee came back and was sent off for more coffee before the Aurors finally left Harry to it. The Auror and Harry had both agreed that he hadn't had his memory completely wiped. His memories seemed to have been locked up as the healers thought, he remembered them but he couldn't share them.  
The healers were of course very interested in him, apparently they didn't get many cases like his. Harry hadn't felt reassured at the comment or the happy look on their faces when they said it.

Harry had been taken up to the memory ward after his initial check-up, where he'd spent a very long week of nobody knowing who he was.  
A week of not being able to ask how the war had ended, a week of reading the Daily prophet and not making any sense of it. A week of not being able to leave as he didn't have a wand or any other possessions.  
Not one word about Voldemort, not one word about the fighting at Hogwarts, nothing.  
Harry was physically fine, but as he still had mental problems the healers had asked him to stay. He got free food, a bed to sleep in and they came round and tried different charms to see if they could break the curse or hex he was under. They hadn't yet managed to figure out what he was affected by and Harry wasn't that hopeful that they would.

"Careful or you might just stay that way!" Healer Pike cautioned as she eyed Harry's frowning face. Harry turned to the bedside table to grab his glasses before remembering he didn't have any. The healers had fixed his eyes and he no longer needed any glasses, though the urge to look for them first thing in the morning was still strong.  
"Here's the paper darling, now wipe the grouch away! You're leaving today aren't you?" She said, handing him the Daily prophet as she had every day for the past week. Harry nodded absentmindly and opened the paper. Healer Pike chatted to herself as Harry stared down at the paper in confusion.  
"What is it darling?" The healer came closer and gave the paper a close look, trying to make out what had caused the sudden change in her patient.  
"Harry?" She prompted, giving him a nudge.

"That's…that's…"Harry tried to say it, he did. He pointed at the picture of the moving man.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, great man he is too." Healer Pike said, smiling at him.  
"Do you know him then? Did you attend Hogwarts after all?" She asked, frowning when Harry shook his head.  
"Well that's a shame, he's a great man Headmaster Dumbledore. He's helping the minister with some suggestions on security or something similar." She said, straightening his covers before she strode off to help one of the other patients.

Harry shook his head again and felt like swearing. He had gone to Hogwarts and he had known Dumbledore. And why did he still shake his head when he meant to nod? And what did she mean he _was_ helping? Dumbledore was dead, very dead.  
"Headmaster Dumbledore arrives for talks with Minister Fudge at the Ministry of Magic." Harry read aloud slowly, he looked at the newspaper edition and date. It was todays, much to his confusion.  
"Dumbledore and Hogwarts!" Harry said, having suddenly realised what he'd just read. He lit up with a smile, he'd finally managed to say the word Hogwarts out loud after a week of trying.

"Hogwarts is a school and Dumbledore…Dumbledore is the headmaster!" Harry said a while later, stumbling over the word was, which wanted to come out as is. Auror Timmons who'd just walked up to him gave him a strange look.  
The Auror was there to escort him to the Midway House, a hostel for outpatients without a home. Harry had been given room and board for a month there, along with a small weekly stipend during his stay so that he could buy a wand and some clothes.

"Did you go there after all then Harry?" Timmons asked, sighing when Harry shook his head. Harry sighed with defeat, why did he even bother to try anymore.  
"Come on, let's get you out of here." Timmons said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder comfortingly.

Two hours later Harry sat on the bed in his new room, alone but for his own thoughts. It was a simply furnished room, spotless and far better than his room at the Dursley's had ever been. The locks were on the inside and his window didn't have bars.  
He counted the galleons he'd been given and gave a sigh. Ten Galleons would have to do, at least until he got to Gringotts. Not that he was all that sure he was going to get lucky there either, seeing as he couldn't even say his full name.  
"Harry…Harry…Harry!" Harry muttered furiously, feeling like screaming. Why didn't the word Potter want to come over his lips? What had happened after he and Voldemort duelled that last time in the Great Hall? What kind of weird magic had he been cursed by? And why hadn't anyone come asking for him? Had he imagined catching the Elder wand in his hand and Voldemort falling down dead? So many questions in need of answering.  
He stood from the bed and gathered up the Galleons, stuffing them back into the pouch he'd been given.  
What could have happened to Ron and Hermione, to keep them from coming looking for him, he wondered walking towards the door. Had they been cursed the same way he was?  
He needed a wand and then he'd visit Gringotts before making his way to the Burrow. Glad to have a plan of action he made his way to Diagon Alley using the Knight Bus. The Housekeeper of the Midway house had been kind enough to flag the bus down for him.

Stepping through the archway to Diagon Alley, with the help of Tom, was a real shock.  
It looked as if the war had never happened, the dark arts shops that had been there last time were gone. People were milling about calmly, looking cheerful and the shops looked open for business as usual. Although WWW wasn't where it should have been, which was a bummer as Harry had thought to see if anyone was in. Harry meandered up to Ollivander's shop leisurely, hoping that someone would recognise him and call out his name. But the call never came and the recognition he'd become used to, never appeared on the faces he passed.

A bell rang as he opened the door to the Wandmaker's shop and Harry stepped in, glad to see it empty of customers.  
"Good afternoon." Mr Ollivander greeted, eyeing him from across the counter in his usual creepy way.

"Hello Mr Ollivander." Harry said, hoping against hope that the man would greet him by name.

"Not one of mine I think. How may I serve you today Mr…" Mr Ollivander clearly didn't remember him and Harry sighed softly.

"Harry, just Harry. I'm in need of a new wand, mine was broken and I've lost the spare." Harry said, watching as the wandmaker raised his brows in surprise.

"Ah! Well then Mr just Harry, if I could have a peek at your School record and we'll get started. Unless you have a family member coming to verify who you are and that you are permitted to own a wand." Mr Ollivander said, staring at him expectantly.

"School record? Why do you need to see my records sir? And why wouldn't I be allowed to carry a wand" Harry asked confused.

"You are of age, I presume?" Mr Ollivander asked, nodding when Harry nodded.  
"Then you need to show me proof that you have taken your O.w.l's grades as that or having a family member verifying you under their care is what is required to purchase and own a wand." Harry blinked at Ollivander words.

"But don't eleven year olds come and get their wands without…eh." Harry realised that he'd never even questioned if there were rules about who was allowed to get wands or not, he only knew of people getting them before the O.w.l exams or after. He opened his mouth and closed it again, much to the curiosity of Mr Ollivander.  
"I had an accident and my memory isn't as it should be." Harry said as Mr Ollivander continued to stare at him.  
"What do I need to do to get a wand? I have…I need to take my O.w.l's exams but I can't do that without a wand." Harry asked, cursing the fact that he couldn't just say what was on his mind. He didn't want to have to re-take his O.w.l's. He'd done them and had, well should have his grades somewhere. Maybe a visit to Hogwarts was in order but, if things carried on the way they were now, he wasn't so sure they'd recognise him either.

"You will need to book in your exam at the Ministry and bring me the confirmation of said booking." Mr Ollivander answered calmly, still eyeing Harry as if he was a curiosity needing to be solved. Harry sighed heavily before saying he'd be back.

So, no wand was bought. Gringotts next.  
The visit to the bank had of course not gone as planned either.  
Harry had not been able to state his name, produce a key or a wand. The Goblins had not recognised him or been very impressed with Harry's impersonation of a fish on dry land, as he'd tried to get his name out unsuccessfully. Only telling them he'd been involved in an accident had made them not throw him out of the bank at once.  
In the end Harry had offered a drop of blood, at their stony faced request, which had given him an account and a new last name.  
His name, and yes he could say it now, was Harry Peverell. Not Potter.  
Peverell, as in Peverell from the story book about the three brothers.  
Harry had opened and closed his mouth several times at that reveal before muttering the name a few times, much to the annoyance of the Goblin in front of him. Said goblin had then taken him down to the vault previously owned by Ignotus Peverell and Harry had looked at the small pile of gold contained within. An even one hundred Galleons, the Goblin had informed him, was all his to use. Anything else in the vault had been emptied out by previous generations. Harry guessed that the cloak might have come from this vault at one point, unless it had gone from hand to hand of course.  
He'd taken a few handfuls of coin and accepted the key handed to him before leaving the bank, more confused than ever.  
Why hadn't he been able to get into his own vault, the Potter vault, the vault he'd used since the age of eleven? And why had he not been told that he could access the Peverell vault when he came in as Harry Potter in the past six years?

His afternoon hadn't gotten any better when he tried to get the knight bus, flagged down by Tom, to take him to The Weasley's. He'd stood there for quite a while opening and closing his mouth before finally giving up.  
People must think him mad, he thought, when he started opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. But he couldn't help it, he didn't know what he could or couldn't say.

He was now seated on his bed at the Midway house, feeling tired, upset and confused with life.  
After resting for a few hours, and getting hungry enough to search for food, Harry decided to send the Auror Mr Timmons a letter. The man had said that he could contact him if he needed help and he definitely needed some advice regarding how to get a new wand. He felt decidedly unsafe without one.  
He then tried to write letters to all of his friends, McGonagall and even Kingsley. All to no use. He couldn't get down more than a blob of ink on the paper, the words just wouldn't write. He couldn't write anyone's name down. Just his own, Harry Peverell as it now was.  
He was getting past the point of being annoyed and confused at whatever was affecting his ability to talk or write about his past and present. Now he just felt in awe that there was a curse or charm that was able to cause these effects, he also wondered who it was that had cursed him. He was leaning towards suspecting Voldemort, but the confusing thing was, that the rest of the world seemed likewise affected to a degree. What spell could do that? And what power would it take to cast it?  
Nobody recognised him as Harry Potter. He'd wished many times since entering the wizarding world that he could just be Harry but this was beyond odd.  
Nobody seemed worried about Voldemort or his Deatheaters. Then there was Diagon Alley, it looked just as it had before the war started, gone were the dark and dingy dark arts shops. Even the Goblins had been affected and if Harry's suspicion was right then the house elves were cursed too. Kreacher wouldn't come after all, although Harry hadn't actually been able to call the elf to him as he couldn't say Kreacher's name.  
Harry tried to think logically but he just couldn't make sense of it. He knew that he hadn't accidently time-travelled. He remembered everything up to the point of duelling Voldemort in the Great Hall and then he remembered everything from the moment he woke up.  
No missing days. At most he was missing hours but as he hadn't been keeping his eye on the time whilst duelling Voldemort he couldn't be sure. He could have been found by the Aurors seconds, minutes or hours after disappearing from school as far as he knew. Besides, there were too many oddities for a couple of hours' time travelling. According To the Daily Prophet Dumbledore was alive, which he knew for a fact to be untrue.

Throwing himself down onto the bed, he hoped he'd wake up to a normal world again tomorrow. Not that the past weeks hopes before bed had done him any good.  
"Harry Peverell." He muttered in disbelief in the darkness.  
"Harry P…Harry P…Harry bloody Peverell!" He exclaimed, as he yet again was unable to say his name. He punched the pillow before drawing the sheet above his head and closing his eyes. He hated the person who was responsible for his problems and he'd figure out who was responsible, even if it was the last thing he did.

* * *

 _Hope you like. E_


	2. Chapter 2

_Second chapter, hope you liked the last.  
_

* * *

 __ **  
The wand chooses the wizard**.

Harry woke to the sound of tapping on his window, which quickly got him out of bed as it was the first owl post he'd received since the end of the war. To Harry's disappointment it was from Auror Timmons and not Ron or Hermione.  
The Auror congratulated him on getting his surname and told him to come to the Ministry Atrium at 12 o'clock, when Mr Timmons had lunch. Mr Timmons had booked Harry a meeting with a student Advisor and would come with him so that he could explain Harry's circumstances to the advisor. He felt sure that they'd either find Harry's records, if he had any, or be able to book in exams before they closed during the Hogwarts exam weeks, which started in June.

Harry glared at the small bedside alarm clock, which showed that there were hours left until noon, before getting into bed again. It wasn't as if he could do much without a wand anyway.

"Ah, Mr Peverell! Welcome to the Ministry of Magic." Auror Timmons called out as Harry made it across the Atrium towards him, feeling uneasy. He'd debated showing up as he figured that the Ministry still was under Deatheater control, in the end he'd decided that if it was, he'd at least be recognised and be able to try and make sense of the world. Besides, the Deatheaters could have killed him many times over by now if they had wanted. He hadn't been hiding the past week after all.

"Auror Timmons." Harry greeted, eager to get whatever form he needed from the advisor so he could get a wand. He received a few curious looks but most people seemed more focused on the Auror than him, Harry Potter Peverell.  
There was a strange buzz in the air but Harry didn't feel as if he was in danger, more as if something had happened and people were gossiping. He looked around but nowhere did he see anyone acting suspiciously.  
He was curious about when and why they'd changed back the floo from looking like toilet stalls, even the old fountain was back.

"I'm glad that the Goblins managed to help you with finding your full name. Have you been able to contact any relatives or friends?" The Auror asked, avoiding everyone else, as they moved towards the elevators. Harry gave the Auror a curious look, something was definitely going on.

"No, I don't have any I think." Harry said, much to his own surprise. Now why had he said that, he wondered?

Another Auror quickly entered the elevator before the doors closed.  
"You've heard?" The man asked, holding out a piece of crumpled paper for Auror Timmons to read. Harry eyed the paper curiously but as it had been charmed he couldn't see what was written.

"I have." Auror Timmons said shortly, casting Harry a meaning look. The other man gave him a look as well before turning back towards his colleague, clearly not bothered by Harry's presence.  
"I'll be up soon, just taking Mr Peverell here to get his school records settled." He added when the other Auror opened his mouth to say something else.

"Peverell? Any relations to _The_ Peverell's?" The man asked giving Harry a surprised look. Harry shrugged uncomfortably and gave Auror Timmons a look.

"We'll see, he's a bit of an unknown at the moment, my Cadet has decided to take the lead on figuring out any relations Harry here has." Auror Timmons said, causing the other man to raise his brows and Harry to look up in surprise. They were looking for his relatives, good luck getting the Dursley's to confirm any relation, Harry thought.

"So, you're the boy they found at Stonehenge then." The other Auror stated giving him a once over, making Harry wonder if they gossiped about everyone or just him before he realised where he'd been found.

"You found me at Stonehenge? That place with the large stones in a circle, the one Merlin built to ease the passing of death?" Harry asked incredulously. Both Aurors gave him surprised looks and Harry wondered how he'd known that piece of information. It must have been from Hermione who always mentioned information like that, which she read from her thick books.

"Who told you that Merlin built it in for that purpose?" Another man asked as he stepped into the elevator and Harry shrugged uncomfortably under the hidden gaze of the Unspeakable.

"This is our stop, see you later Mark." Auror Timmons quickly dragged Harry out of the elevator.  
"You'll want to stay away from the Unspeakables and not catch their interest again. Do you remember anything useful about why we found you there?" He asked, sighing when Harry shook his head.  
"Well, at least you've made a start. You have a surname, that's more than you've had all week. You might get more in a moment when we enter the Wizarding Examinations Authority." Mr Timmons said sounding hopeful. Harry doubted it, seeing as his name wasn't and had never been Harry Peverell.  
Harry was taken past rooms holding the different departments of this level. He was pretty sure Percy had worked on this floor at some point when he spotted a large poster of different cauldrons on the wall. The door Auror Timmons took him to, had a sign which read W.E.A. Wizarding Examinations Authority.  
"We are meeting Professor Ravenbrook in room 13." Timmons said, steering Harry to the right down a long corridor lined with doors.

"Come in." A woman's voice called as they knocked on the door.  
"Auror Timmons and Mr Peverell I presume?" She asked, without looking up from her desk, as they entered.  
"I have already taken the liberty of looking for any records attached to your name Mr Peverell. There are none, so I am assuming you were home-schooled?" She asked before they even had a chance to sit down. Harry nodded dumbly, frowning at his head moving in the opposite way of what he'd wanted, causing her to finally look up so she could see his answer.  
"Do you have any records or recommendations from your teachers with you?" She asked, giving him an expectant look, which turned annoyed when he shook his head.

"Mr Peverell has unfortunately had an accident and has problems with his memory. We have been unable to find any relatives but as he grew up in the muggle world there might not be much to find." Auror Timmons explained.

"Muggleborn, no records and no relatives." Professor Ravenbrook muttered, watching her quill take her notes down.  
"All wizards and witches are required to take their O.w.l's in order to carry a wand. As you aren't registered with us you must take your exams if you are to carry a wand." She stated, giving Harry a stern look.  
"I hope you haven't been using a wand without a legal guardian present as that is illegal!" She said sharply. She gave Auror Timmons a quick look and relaxed, no doubt reassured that the law hadn't been broken by his presence in the room.

"He wasn't carrying a wand when he was found and seems like a well behaved lad. I have a character letter of recommendation from the Healers at Saint Mungos and a document from the Goblins regarding him owning a vault under the name of Harry Peverell." Auror Timmons said, handing two rolled up parchments over to the witch. Harry eyed the rolls in confusion, why were they need he wondered. Professor Ravenbrook read through the parchments before making a note on her own parchment.

"Everything seems to be in order. The available exam slots are listed here." She handed Harry a paper, which had different subjects, dates and times written on it.  
"As you haven't taken the tests yet, you are only required to pay the level 1 exam fees which currently stands at 10 Galleons for of age students. Payment is to be done as you book your exam slots." She added as Harry glossed through the form.  
"Thank you and goodbye." She said, giving them both a last look.

"Thank you, Professor." Auror Timmons said pulling Harry, who hadn't realised they were being excused, out of his chair.

"Wasn't I supposed to tell her which exams I'm taking? Isn't she supposed to advise me, I mean?" Harry asked as they walked back up the corridor.

"That's mainly when you sign up for your Newt's, all she needed to do today was check if you had any standing grades, which you didn't. The registrations office is over there." The Auror said, pointing towards a queue of people.  
"Do you have enough Galleons to pay the fee?" He asked softly, as a woman and a young girl walked passed them.

"Yes, I withdrew some from the vault at Gringotts yesterday." Harry answered as they slowed down. There were several people lining up to hand in similar papers, as the one Harry was holding, to a man sitting in a booth.

"You'll want to check the subjects and dates that you want to take, he'll let you know if and when there is a space left." Timmons said quietly, handing Harry a quill.

Harry sighed before reading the paper more carefully, he wanted to just get it over with and choose the nearest dates and times he could.  
He had to take a minimum of eight subjects and chose the same ones he'd had last time, electing to drop the Divination exam just because he could. He handed the form over when his turn came and hoped for the best.

"Want it over and done with eh? We have some late cancellations if you're interested? There's free slots in Charms and Defence against the Dark arts tomorrow. If that's not too soon for you?" The man offered, much to Harry's joy. He just wanted to buy his new wand as soon as possible.  
He handed over the form and the Galleons and asked the man to let him know if any more early times became available. He was handed back a timetable of his tests, which could be used as proof when buying his wand, and told to appear the next day at nine when his first test would start. He was also told that he had to finish the tests within a month to be able to keep his wand legally.

Auror Timmons then followed him back down to the Atrium and wished him luck.  
"Just send me an owl if you need any other help, or if you manage to remember what caused your memory troubles. I'll let you know if I get any leads or ideas to pursue." Was his parting words and Harry thanked him for his help before making it towards the floo point.  
He had a wand to buy.

Mr Ollivander had been more forthcoming this time as Harry had handed over his form.  
"Let us see which wand you match up with, shall we, Mr Peverell." Mr Ollivander said, eyeing him from across the counter.  
"Now which is your wand arm?" He asked, making his tape measurer flit into action, the visit had continued much as it had during his first time as an eleven year old.  
Mr Ollivander hadn't been overly excited to begin with but as the pile of rejected wands grew, he'd warmed up towards Harry.  
"Tricky, tricky customer but I do like a challenge, makes for more fun." The man muttered, moving deeper into the shop, making Harry smile in remembrance.  
"How about this one?" He asked, holding out a box for Harry to open.

Harry carefully lifted the lid off and eyed the wand within in shock. How had Mr Ollivander got a hold of his wand and how had he repaired it, when before he'd said it couldn't be repaired?  
He carefully caressed the wand with a finger and felt himself relax for the first time in a week.  
"Thank you." He said, before lifting his wand out of the box with shaky fingers.  
"Thank you." He mumbled again before letting Prongs out with a sigh of contentment. The silvery stag pranced on the shop floor, looking for danger, before turning to give Harry a small bow of his antlers and disappearing.

Mr Ollivander sighed softly before giving him a brisk nod.  
"A good match, I think." He muttered, eyeing Harry intently.  
"Holly and Phoenix feather. I have waited a long time for that particular wand to choose its wizard." He continued, after a moment's silence.  
"I believe it is destined for greatness, so I shall expect great thing from you Harry Peverell. Great things." Mr Ollivander murmured, in a way Harry thought sounded rather ominous.

"Why do you believe it is destined for great things sir?" Harry forced himself to ask, he hadn't liked the answer at eleven but now he wanted to hear if Mr Ollivander would say the same thing or change his answer.

"The core within, Phoenix feather, had a brother. The phoenix who gave me this feather also gave me a second. The wand containing this one's brother has done great things, mostly terrible things but still great." Mr Ollivander took a deep breath and stared at Harry with his pale eyes, no doubt debating if he should continue.  
"The wizard owning your wands brother, was He-who-must-not-be-named." He breathed stepping closer to the counter and Harry.

"Voldemort." Harry said, slightly surprised that he'd been able to since he couldn't even say his own name at the moment. Mr Ollivander shuddered and took a step backwards, eyeing Harry with trepidation.  
"Is he dead? Do you know what happened to him?" Harry asked, he wanted to know what the rest of the world though was the truth right now.

Mr Ollivander blinked once and picked up one of the discarded wand boxes from the counter.  
"They say he is, but his body was never found. Some say he disappeared from the wizarding world, weakened and without his followers." He answered, picking up a second box. Harry guessed that the someone, who had said he disappeared, had been Professor Dumbledore.  
"After sixteen years of peace, who is to say he isn't dead?" He added almost defiantly, glancing backwards at Harry who stood frowning.

"How did he disappear? What happened to him?" Harry asked, confused beyond words. Had Voldemort obliviated everyone from remembering his return and if so, how.

Mr Ollivander gave him a long look.  
"Have you not studied history boy? What do they teach at schools nowadays that you don't know about the end of the war?" He muttered, shaking his head, before turning back towards the shelves where he moved a couple of boxes buying time.  
"Harry Potter happened." He finally said, turning back to look at Harry.

Harry stared back at him in surprise.  
"Harry Potter!?" He exclaimed, before clasping a hand over his mouth in shock.  
"Harry Potter." He said again, just to make sure he had said it out loud.

Mr Ollivander nodded slowly giving him a queer look.  
"It was during All Hallows Eve, sixteen years ago, that He-who-must-not-be-named went to the Potter family's house in Godric's Hollow. The Potters had been betrayed by a friend, as many were during those dark days." Mr Ollivander said darkly, clearly casting himself back into the memories of the dark days passed.  
"He-who-must-not-be-named entered their house and was never seen nor heard from again, as far as I know." He added, picking up more of the boxes.

"What happened to Harry Potter?" Harry asked curiously, wondering what the answer was going to be.

"Gone. Vanished." Mr Ollivander breathed.  
"Neither he nor the Dark Lord were ever found." He added, eyeing Harry's frowning face in interest.  
"You have never heard this story have you? It is odd to meet someone your age who hasn't, but you said you had problems with your memory didn't you?" The old man mused, watching as Harry tried to wipe the look of absolute shock of his face.

"So, Harry Potter is dead?" Harry asked, finally getting himself together enough to form a question, he was gobsmacked.

Mr Ollivander nodded slowly.  
"It is believed to be so, his gravestone stands in Godric's Hollow." He said, making Harry frown.

"But you said his body disappeared, how can he be buried anywhere without a body?" Harry asked, the story didn't make sense to him.

"I expect his parents needed to find closure and a place to feel near their son, even if only in spirit." Mr Ollivander suggested.

"Um, What?" Harry asked.

"His parents needed closure I expect." Mr Ollivander repeated, eyeing Harry's dumbfounded face curiously.

"But they died, didn't they? His parents were killed by Voldemort. Weren't they?" Harry asked, eyeing the old man suspiciously. The story really didn't make any sense at all. Did everyone else think that this was how it was supposed to be? No wonder nobody had recognised him. They all thought he was dead! Had Ron and Hermione been cursed too he wondered, it would explain why they hadn't come looking for him.

"I'm sure they wished at some point that they had been, no parent should outlive their child after all. But no, Mr and Mrs Potter both survived the night that their infant son disappeared." Mr Ollivander answered softly.

"How? How did they live?" Harry asked, knowing that he shouldn't believe the story he was being told but unable to not be drawn in.

"They were stunned by their traitorous friend and only came to when the house came crashing down over them. The Dark Lord and Harry Potter were both gone when they searched for them and neither have ever been seen since." Mr Ollivander said, making Harry sigh.  
They both jumped, when the bell over the door suddenly chimed, as a new customer entered the shop. Harry quickly paid for his wand and thanked the wandmaker again before exiting, feeling overwhelmed.

Was this really what everyone else believed, what they knew to be reality? Were there two people out there, who had been Imperiused or Obliviated, thinking that they were his grieving parents?  
He stood there in the sunshine and didn't know what to do. Where did he go from here and what could he do? It wasn't as if he could tell anyone anything and even if he could, they'd think he was delusional.

In the end he made it to Flourish & Blotts, in somewhat of a daze. He perused the shelves for history books detailing the war and the end of Voldemort's reign. Some books on curses caught his eyes as well, but as he didn't know where to look, he left those be for the moment. Besides, if the Healers at saint Mungos didn't know what ailed him, then he doubted that the regular book shop would have any books on the subject.  
He brought his books back to the Midway house and read through them. The book followed Mr Ollivander's story and gave additional information, like who it was that had betrayed his supposed parents.  
Peter Pettigrew had been sentenced to life in Azkaban, where he according to the book, still resided.

Harry wondered how the person who'd cursed him, had managed to change everything from people's memories to what was written in the history books. What spell or spells could do something this big and affect so many people? And if Voldemort had the power, why hadn't he cast the spell before now.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading, please leave a review._  
 _E_


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter three hope you still like.  
_

* * *

 __  
 **Overqualified.**

Harry's two weeks of exams at the ministry had gone well, at least it had felt as if they had been ridiculously easy. Seeing as how he'd done them all years ago, Harry didn't feel that he could brag too much.  
His first exams in Charms and Defence had been a breeze, even the examiner had told him he had been more than ready to take them, if not ready to take his Newt's even. He'd looked overjoyed at Harry's Patronus and had launched into a, what could have ended up as a very long, lecture on how few wizards there were that bothered to learn the spell. One of the other examiners had cleared her throat and Harry had been excused, so that the next student could start their practical.  
The rest of the week had continued in similar manner, with Harry showing up in the morning and leaving in the afternoon. Harry had debated with himself about the necessity of retaking the exams but as nobody knew who he was and he still hadn't been able to contact anyone, he felt he might need the results so he could make some kind of a living. Besides, he didn't feel like going on the run in order to keep his wand, if all it took was doing these tests again. The Galleons he had were running out quickly, even though he was budgeting hard.  
One of his examiners had given him good advice by suggesting that he start tutoring in the subjects he did best in, after he received his results at the end of June as that also helped him for preparing for his Newt's. Harry had seen a few posters of people offering to tutor for a couple of Galleons an hour and thought it might actually be a good idea. It wasn't as if he didn't have experience in tutoring, although as he couldn't use anyone as reference he might as well never had tutored anyone. And if his curse continued it might take a while before he could get in contact with his friends again, not to mention getting into his Gringotts vault.

Harry had also found out what had caused the tension at the Ministry, the first time he came, after reading that Madam Bones had been found dead again. Harry remembered that she'd been killed before his sixth year, rumoured to have been carried out by Voldemort himself. Was this a way to explain away why certain people were missing, to the general public, Harry wondered? He'd kept a close eye on the Prophet ever since, as Madam Bones death notice hadn't been first page news, they had in fact reported that she had been sick for the past few weeks and that her death might have been expected. Harry just saw it as more proof that the whole situation he was in, was because of Voldemort or his Deatheaters. He kept expecting the news of Dumbledore's unfortunate demise, but so far nothing had cropped up.

Today was the day of his last exam, History. Harry didn't know what to feel, as he wondered what he'd fill his days with from now on. He'd yet to figure out a way to contact people he knew and he had been unable to travel to them either. He was only allowed to stay at the Midway house for two more weeks, before he'd have to find somewhere else to live.  
When Harry made to step out of the floo he found the Ministry in an uproar, something big had happened apparently.  
"What is your reason for visiting the Ministry?" He was asked, by a stony faced Auror, as he stepped through the floo point.

"Erm, I have a History exam on level 5." Harry answered, wondering if the Deatheaters had made their presence known at last.

"Name?" The Auror asked, eyeing Harry with suspicion.

"Harry! He's fine, you can let him through." Auror Timmons appeared, looking drawn and stressed out. His colleague disregarded Harry at once and turned onto his next victim, who appeared as soon as Harry was allowed to exit fully from the fireplace.  
"We have a situation going on as you can see, I guess you have another exam today." Timmons muttered, leading a nodding Harry through the Atrium with quick steps.

"What's going on?" Harry asked curious.

"I don't see the harm in telling you, it's probably out already anyway." Auror Timmons muttered, giving Harry a quick look.  
"There was a breakout at Azkaban early this morning." He said, sighing when the elevator doors closed right before them leaving them to wait for it to return.

"Again?" Harry asked without thinking before being astonished that he'd been able to ask the question at all.

"You heard about the previous attempt I presume. We thought that the weaknesses had been sorted out from last year. That nobody got out that time was a miracle, we weren't as lucky this morning." Auror Timmons grumbled, nodding at another Auror walking past in a hurry.

"Who got out?" Harry asked. He wondered why the Deatheaters or Voldemort, if he still lived, would want to cause a scene after going to so much trouble to make everyone forget.

"That is information we haven't released yet, so I can't tell you." Auror Timmons said, stepping into the elevator with Harry.

"Was it Deatheaters?" Harry asked, getting a frown from the Auror.  
"Well it's not that big of a leap to make, is it?" Harry grumbled making Timmons nod slowly.

"Did you hear about Pettigrew?" A man, stepping in from level six, asked as soon as he saw Auror Timmons. Harry blinked and frowned wondering where this was going.

"What did _you_ hear?" Auror Timmons asked sternly, making the man fidget slightly at the tone of voice used.

"Well, I heard Pettigrew and two other Deatheaters were freed in the early hours. You know how the floo heats up with gossip." The man said, giving Auror Timmons a guilty look.

"You mean, you monitored the floo network and heard something you shouldn't have?" The Auror snapped causing the other man to fidget even more. Harry eyed Auror Timmons surprised as the man had always seemed so in control of himself.  
"Harry, I'll no doubt see you at some point again, good luck with the test." Timmons added, pushing Harry out of the elevator on level 5 before the doors closed again. Harry stood still for a moment, thoughts spinning before he turned and walked towards the exam rooms.  
Peter Pettigrew was dead, he'd died by his own hand, so why would they pretend that he was alive? Harry couldn't make any sense of anything right now but as that was a feeling he was starting to get used to, he put his confusion to the side as he got ready for his test.  
He finished his history exam quickly, not really that bothered about whether he passed it or not, and took up a spot in the atrium watching as people mingled. He figured he might hear or see something of use if he stayed long enough. He was given a few suspicious looks by the Aurors but was mostly ignored as he didn't do much more than stare at people.

"Is there a reason for your loitering here in the Atrium, boy?" A voice growled into Harry's ear, making him jump high. The clunking sound of wood meeting wood had Harry staring at the floor.  
"Never learnt not stare or is it your first time seeing a wooden leg?" The growl, belonging to the dead Alastor Moody's body asked. Harry stared some more and eventually the Moody impersonator sat down on the bench beside him with a growl.  
"You look mighty familiar boy! What's your name?" The man asked, making Harry finally blink. Really, dead Moody was the one who would finally recognise him Harry thought.

"Harry? What are you still doing here? Your exam must have finished hours ago." Auror Timmons and his cadet, Jones, came walking towards them. The cadet gave Harry a big grin, but froze at the realization of who Harry sat beside.

"Auror Moody, sir. Such an honour sir, a real honour, sir." He stuttered, before stepping back at Auror Timmons tired glare.

"Did your exam not go well?" Timmons asked, making Harry shrug.

"It was fine." Harry mumbled uncomfortably, acutely aware of the Moody look-a-like staring at him.

"You know him?" Moody asked, motioning towards Harry.

"It's a really interesting story sir! You should have heard the Unspeakables arguing with Timmy about…" Cadet Jones excited words were interrupted by Auror Timmons clearing his throat loudly.  
"Sorry sir." Jones mumbled going red, as they all looked at him. Harry wondered what he had to do with the unspeakables and why they had been arguing with the Aurors about him.  
"It's just such an honour sir. A real honour." He added, giving Moody an awed look before backing away again at the frown he received from his mentor.

"What's your full name boy?" Moody asked turning to glare at Harry again, looking mulish.

"Harry Peverell." Auror Timmons answered in Harry's stead, looking between Harry's stiff posture to Moody's suspicious one.  
"Do you recognise Harry, Alastor?" He added curiously. Moody gave a small grunt and narrowed his eyes, staring even harder at Harry.  
"Harry was found in the inner circle of Stonehenge, cursed with some kind of a memory block, on the 8th of May. We haven't been able to find any relatives and Harry here hasn't been able to say much about his past. It's a real mystery." He said, when it seemed Moody was expecting more.  
"Harry this is Alastor Moody, a retired Auror, one of the best." Timmons said, turning towards Harry who'd been suffering under Moody's gaze silently. Cadet Jones opened his mouth before closing it again at the look he received from his superior.

"Today is not a good day for strangers to sit and spy on Auror business." Moody growled, glaring at Harry some more.

Auror Timmons coughed to hide a small laugh.  
"I doubt Harry here is spying." He said, giving Harry an apologetic look.

"I am, spying, in a way." Harry said, as he had been people watching, wanting to see what fake Moody would say.

"Aha, confessing to the crime!" Moody exclaimed triumphantly, keeping in character.  
"I'll have you down in interrogation for so long that you'll have a beard growing by the time you get out." He growled, making Cadet Jones snort.  
"You think it's funny, do you? Spies in the Ministry, hours after Deatheaters escape Azkaban! If you were my Cadet you wouldn't be snorting, you'd be checking every civilian in this room." Moody barked, making Jones pale and both nod and shake his head several times.

"Leave my Cadet be, Alastor, I'll handle him myself. And I'm sure Harry is just taking in the action." Auror Timmons said calmly, making Moody glare at him too.  
"Have you had lunch Harry? We're on our way out for a quick bite, you're very welcome to join us. I'll tell you all about when I became a Cadet and Auror Moody was the scariest Auror around." He added, giving Harry an excuse to get away from Moody.

It didn't quite work out as he'd planned though as Moody announced that he was coming with them the moment Harry shrugged and said yes.  
So there Harry was, seated across the table from a still suspicious looking Moody, eating his soup quietly. Well, trying to eat his soup quietly as Moody had kept barking questions at him.

"So, Harry, have you found anywhere to live yet?" Auror Timmons asked, when Moody finally left the table. Harry let out a small sigh of relief, staring after the fake Moody who was making his way to the men's room.

"Not yet. The housekeeper, Mrs Larry, has been on my case about it. I haven't even found a job yet but I have put up some notes offering to tutor." Harry answered, looking over at the Auror.

"Sounds like a plan, I'd be happy to give you a letter of good character. I'm sure you'll go far, there's a good head on your shoulders." Timmons said, before leaning closer.  
"I apologise for Alastor, he can be a bit paranoid. He got worse when they retired him, too much free time I think." He whispered, keeping an eye at the doorway to the men's room. Harry shrugged, he was used to how the real Moody had been after all.

"He's terrifying, great man but terrifying." Jones whispered. He'd been quiet for most of the meal, staring more at Moody than at his own food.  
Moody came lumbering out into the open again and Jones hunched over the table.  
"Terrifying…" He breathed in awe, eyes wide.

Moody was feet away, when Harry raised his wand without conscious thought. He'd fired off a stunner before anyone, Moody included, had time to react. The pub went dead silent, as people moved away from the stunned man lying still on the floor.  
"He was pointing his wand at you!" Harry said defensively, lowering his wand arm, pointing at the stunned man's hand which still held a wand. Moody looked furious as he turned and eyed the man intently.

"Finley Fishburn, arrested him years back for counterfeiting." Moody muttered, fishing the man's wand up. Auror Timmons was getting down on one knee next to the man, checking for other weapons.  
"Good reflexes, Peverell!" Moody barked, causing more than one patron to jump.

Harry shrugged at the praise, before going still as he spotted someone familiar in the crowd.  
"Hey, you! Stop!" He shouted, as a very guilty looking Mundungus Fletcher tried to force his way out of the pub.

"I dinn'a do not'ing!" Mundungus wailed as Harry felled him with a tripping hex.  
"I wasn't my idea. I'm no' tha' stupid!" He added, when Moody came closer.  
"Fishy must'a gone mad, try'n to get at you. 'e owes money to some crooks, maybe tha' is why he'd be so stupid. " He muttered, eyes flitting from person to person as he tried to scoot his way closer to the door.

Moody stunned him without a word, looking rather pleased with the action.  
"Been wanting to bring him in for years, collaborating with a suspect with an intention to do harm, I've got him now." Moody stated smugly.

"I'll be bringing them both back with me to the ministry then. Thank you Harry, thank you Alastor, see you both another time." Auror Timmons said, after clearing his throat, giving Cadet Jones a pointed look. Moody gave him a scandalised look of betrayal, before stomping his way over to the bar refusing to see them cart off his criminals, he stiffened even more after Auror Timmons summoned Mundungus wand from his pocket.  
"Have you ever thought about a career as an Auror Harry? You do have very good reflexes." Timmons said, giving Harry a calculated look, whilst Cadet Jones eyed him with a rather chagrin look.

"Peverell!" Moody barked from the bar, waving for Harry to come over. Auror Timmons tried to hide a smile, as he bid Harry a good night, before leaving with the two suspects and his cadet.  
"Here, you earned it." Moody handed him a small glass of Firewhiskey. Harry gave it a glance before shaking his head politely.  
"Right you are, never accept a drink you didn't see get prepared." Moody said, approvingly.  
"Was wrong about you it seems, I apologise for being thorough in my character assessment of you. But one can never be too sure. Constant vigilance." He muttered, grabbing Harry's shoulder in a strong grip. Harry's brows rose, fake Moody was easier to please than the dead one it seemed. He did wonder if the attack had been a way to get rid of fake Moody as they had with Madam Bones.

He was still pondering the same thought when he woke the next morning. Moody had refused to let him leave the pub without accepting a drink or two. Harry had then been forced to listen as Moody recounted a few of his glory days as an Auror.  
A loud knock on his door had Harry out of the bed, wand ready. It was the first time anyone had knocked on his door since he moved in. He glanced at the clock, which read too early for visitors, and made for the door carefully.  
"Open up you lazy lout! In my days a man never slept past six!" A voice barked from the other side, making Harry stiffen.  
"Morning." Fake Moody greeted as soon as Harry opened his door. Harry sighed loudly as the man shouldered his way into his room uninvited giving his room a once over.  
"Get your stuff on, we've got a busy day ahead!" Moody barked when Harry stared at him from the open doorway.

"I'm busy already." Harry said, closing the door, before pulling on a pair of trousers.

"I can see that." Moody said, looking pointedly at the unmade bed Harry had been laying in a moment before.  
"You're looking for a job aren't you? I'm in need of a personal assistant, nothing big or too dangerous." Moody said, poking at the pile of history books Harry had on his bedside table.  
"40 Galleons a week, a free room. You'll have to feed yourself though, I'm not your mother." Moody offered, giving the stunned looking Harry a quick glance.  
"Take it or leave it." He barked, snapping Harry out of his shock.

"What exactly am I supposed to do as your personal assistant?" Harry hedged, as he pulled his t-shirt on.

"Assistant stuff, you can move in tonight, now come on we haven't got all day." Moody said, throwing Harry's cloak at him. Harry opened his mouth to argue but Moody was already opening his door and motioning for him to keep up. Harry took a deep breath before shrugging, why not he thought. He might learn something useful and meet someone he knew, if fake Moody kept with the same crowd as the real one had.  
"Right, there seems to be a hit out on me so we'll check some of the usual perps out." Moody said as they exited the house, Harry turned to ask what he meant by check them out but was stopped as Moody grabbed his arm and apparated them away.

"Don't do that!" Harry snapped as he stumbled away.

"You know how to apparate?" Moody asked, giving Harry a pointed look.

"Not legally." Harry muttered, looking around carefully, missing Moody's approving look.

Moody had apparated them to a shabby residential area, most of the houses had foreclosure signs hanging outside the doors. Not even the early sunshine could make this place look less dreary than it did. Harry watched as Moody pulled out a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket.  
"Right, number seven, keep your wand out." Moody muttered, nodding at a brown painted house with darkened windows. Harry's heart beat faster and he made sure to keep his wand out but hidden in his sleeve.  
"Dickey! Get out where I can see you!" Moody shouted as soon as he'd kicked in the door.  
There was the sound of hurried feet on the second floor and Harry, who was standing on the porch, quickly stunned the man who jumped out of the window. Moody came lumbering towards him, stretching the scars on his face by smiling, he prodded the stunned man with his wooden leg and gave Harry a pleased look.  
"Good reflexes lad." He mumbled, dragging the man back inside with the help of his wand.

"I dinna do not'in!" The man said, as soon as Moody un-stunned him, fighting the ropes that bound him to a gangly kitchen chair.

"Tell me what you've heard?" Moody demanded, leaning closer.

"I'll tell you everythin', if you let me go." The man promised fervently, giving the silent Harry a few uneasy looks.  
"Who's the kid?" He asked, jumping when Moody gave him a kick with his wooden leg.  
"Ow! Stop it with the leg, it 'urts like mad when you do tha'!" The man complained, glaring at Moody.

"Who put out the hit on me, Dickey?" Moody growled leaning closer.

"I 'eard from Albert, who 'eard it from Earney, who 'eard it at Green's tha' it was one of the old munchers tha' put it out." Dickey quickly said.  
"A bag of Galleons, for yer head! A thousand freakin' Galleons!" The man breathed, looking very tempted, before looking down at the floor.  
"You know I'd never do nothin' though! Right Moody! I'd never, not to you!" The man promised, looking between Moody and Harry.  
"Who's the kid?" He asked again, grunting when Moody gave him another swift kick with the peg leg.

"Names?" Moody asked, glaring at the man.

"I don' know any names! I ain't in tha' business no more! I'm legi'mate now." Dickey protested, eyes flitting worriedly between Harry and Moody.  
"Who's the kid Mad-eye?" He asked, looking spooked at Harry's continued silence as he leaned against the wall observing Moody in action.

"Give me a name or I'll let the kid ask you next time." Moody growled darkly, casting Harry an evaluating look. Dickey paled, eyes flitting madly between them.

"I don't know not'in…wait! I do, I do!" Dickey shouted as Moody turned his back and walked towards the door.  
"I know a name, don' leave me with the kid!" Dickey begged, scraping the chair forwards towards Moody using his legs.

"I guess you don't get to play today lad." Moody muttered, eyes gleaming merrily as he glanced at the still quiet Harry.  
Dickey gave Harry a terrified look, before breathing deeply, spilling everything he knew.

"You did real good Peverell, real damn good." Moody praised as they left the shaking man to his fate, still bound to a chair. Harry shrugged, all he'd done after all was stun the man and then stand back and watch.  
"Crouch junior, I didn't think I'd hear that name again. Supposed to be long dead after all." Moody muttered, glancing at Harry as they walked down the road.  
"You didn't look too surprised. Guess you didn't fall for the whole, house-elf killing Crouch senior, shite they printed in the press huh?" Moody spat, patting Harry's shoulder approvingly.  
"Good common sense too, I knew my first impression of you was right. You'll do well sticking with me lad." He muttered, much to Harry's consternation. Harry had been surprised to hear that Crouch junior was about and it made him rather confused that Moody said the murder of his father had been in the papers. Had he missed it or was it written a while back, he wondered.

"You thought I was a Deatheater in training when you first saw me and I haven't accepted your offer yet." Harry muttered, rubbing his shoulder.

"Then you're guilty of unprovoked stunning of a civilian, illegally restraining a civilian and aiding illegal questioning of said civilian." Moody stated, causing Harry to give the man an angry glare.  
"Breakfast? I know a great place for a full English." Moody said, rubbing his hands, eyes gleaming.  
"Successful questioning always gets me hungry." He said, as he grabbed Harry for another forced apparition, Harry let out a curse as they disappeared with a loud pop.

That night Harry got himself settled in Moody's guest room, packing away his meagre belongings. They'd ended up making a few more visits, after lunch, to people who might come chasing after Moody if money was offered.  
Harry had to admit that the fake Moody acted just like the real one had. He'd even started wondering if the real Moody had somehow managed to survive after all, they hadn't found his body as far as Harry knew.  
He sat down with a tired sigh in the armchair, opening up one of his history books on a well-read page. A picture of his parents looked back at him, faces drawn and eyes sad. It had, according to the writer, been snapped a few hours after Voldemort's attack on Halloween. No matter how many times Harry read the book, he couldn't believe how the story could have been changed so drastically. He'd been fighting the urge to go and search for them, the people who thought they were his parents. But it felt as if he would be following the script of whoever it was that had cursed him and the world, so he had been fighting the temptation.

* * *

 _So what do you think? I'm eager to know.  
E_


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4 and as before, I hope you liked the previous chapters.  
_

* * *

 **A not so Grim Place**

Harry ducked, narrowingly avoiding getting hit by a cutting hex. He quickly erected a shield charm as more hexes were coming his way and gave his previously clean cloak a glare. Bits of plaster and dust clung to his black robe, making it look grey instead.  
Moody was duelling a scruffy looking wizard, who'd taken offence at being called a slimy snake by Moody as they'd passed on the street. Harry eyed them tiredly before spotting his chance.

Moody turned and eyed him crossly, as his opponent keeled over for no apparent reason and hit the ground hard.  
"I had it under control!" He growled, his glare getting darker as Harry shrugged looking unconcerned.

"You said we had to hurry getting lunch." Harry said, rubbing his growling stomach pointedly. They'd been out since way before people were supposed to be up and Harry had only had a quick piece of toast for breakfast.  
"Besides, we have a time to keep, don't we? Where did you say we were meeting your friend?" Harry asked, fishing for an answer Moody had refused to give all morning. Moody gave the stunned man a last disappointed look before stepping over him and continuing down the street.

"Don't make a habit of interrupting my duels boy! Now let's get moving!" Moody barked, heading towards Diagon Alley where they'd been going before Moody got distracted.

Harry eyed the stunned man indecisively before flicking his wand with a sigh, it would be too cruel to leave him to the evil masses eyeing them hungrily. The man raised his wand almost instantly but Harry, who'd anticipated the move, summoned his wand silently.  
"Don't tempt me into break it." Harry chided, sticking the wand deep into a pot of wet soil. The man scowled but remained half-seated on the ground, whilst Harry hurried after Moody before anyone else wanted to try their luck.

"You shouldn't show them mercy, lad, they'll give you none back." Moody reproached him, when he caught up to the retired Auror. Harry shrugged, knowing that Moody probably wouldn't have given a rat's ass about what happened to the man, judging by how the past week of interrogations had gone. Harry was the one who'd stunned him though, which meant he was responsible for the man's fate and leaving a man stunned in Knockturn Alley could never end well. For the stunned man, that was.  
"You're a softy Peverell and you sure know how to test my patience." Moody muttered, glaring half-heartedly at Harry who tried to hide a grin unsuccessfully.

Harry felt much better, when they stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron, after finally having had lunch. He even went as far as letting Moody side-along apparate him to where ever they were headed. His mood dropped though as they appeared on a very familiar street. Oh, he couldn't see the house he knew had to be there, he couldn't even remember the house's name but he knew where they were. If his dead Godfather opened the door to the hidden house, Harry didn't know how he'd react.  
"You alright lad? You're looking decidedly pale." Moody asked, giving him a searching look. Harry shrugged uncomfortably before looking at the ground in silence.  
"I told you to stay away from the greens, broccoli is never good for you no matter what anyone else has told you." Moody chided, shaking his head, before checking his timepiece.

"Mr Moody." Harry looked up and fixed his surprised gaze on Narcissa Malfoy, who stood in the doorway of the familiar house he still couldn't name.

"Mrs Malfoy." Moody greeted, his magical eye fixed on the hallway behind her. He pulled, a still silent, Harry towards her. She gave Harry a quick glance but didn't seem to recognise him or think him wordy of attention if her quick dismissal was anything to go by. But Harry wasn't altogether fooled, she'd lied straight to Voldemort's face the last time he'd seen her.

"I was not aware of anyone else partaking in our little tea party, I will of course add another cup to the table. You will of course be held responsible for his actions whilst he is a guest in my home." Mrs Malfoy said as she allowed them into the house. Harry eyed the cream and gold walls in mute silence and stepped uneasily on the lush green carpet under his feet, the house looked polished and refined. Not at all as he remembered leaving it.

"This is Harry, my assistant, he just had lunch so don't bother if it's too difficult for your house-elf to put a cup out for him. He's house trained and shouldn't mess up your pretty house." Moody said gruffly, his magic eye spinning wildly as he no doubt took in every room of the house. Mrs Malfoy smiled politely, her eyes icy cold, as she showed them up the stairs and into the drawing room. Harry eyed the room in disbelief, how in Merlin's name had they made it so white and clean he wondered.  
A grand piano stood where a dingy armchair had been before and light was pouring in through the large windows making the room dazzle. Pictures of Draco Malfoy at different ages decorated the walls and Kreacher the house elf stood eyeing Harry intently from under one of the more recent pictures. Harry opened his mouth, before closing it again when no words came out, and cast a look at Mrs Malfoy and Moody who were seated by a small table.

"My son, Draco." Mrs Malfoy said softly, catching Harry's eye.  
"He is in his final year at Hogwarts." She added before calmly ordering Kreacher to serve the tea. The elf still eyed Harry closely and only stopped when Mrs Malfoy told him to leave them be.

"Have you seen any recent sightings of Barty Crouch Jr?" Moody asked, ignoring the dainty teacup steaming in front of him. Harry blinked at the straightforwardness before feeling stupid, it was Moody after all.

Mrs Malfoy stiffened and carefully placed her cup down before placing her hands in her lap.  
"No." She answered, pursing her lips tightly.  
"And I haven't seen my sister either, she is no longer welcome here." She added before Moody opened his mouth again. Harry eyed her in astonishment, her tone indicated that she really meant it.  
"I will not have anyone with risk of harming my son's life near him ever again." She said stiffly, glancing towards the pictures on the wall.

"Crouch Jr attacked your boy two years ago, at your former residence, is that right?" Moody inquired, causing Harry to frown.

"That man was under the impression that my husband had something of worth and harmed my son in order to get at it." Mrs Malfoy answered, her blue eyes going cold and dark.  
"My son and I moved here shortly after the incident and I have neither heard nor seen from that man again. I wish to keep it that way but will of course aid you in anyway needed in order to bring him to justice." She said coolly, meeting Moody's eyes dead on.

"What did he want from you?" Harry asked, fairly sure he could guess, curious to see if it this cursed reality would follow his logic of how it might have gone.

"A book." Mrs Malfoy said after a moment's silence.  
"I am afraid I didn't catch your last name, Mr?" She gave him a pointed stare.

"Peverell, Harry Peverell." Harry introduced, watching as her eyes widened slightly.

"Which branch of the family?" She inquired softly, lifting her teacup to her lips and eyeing him over the rim.

"Ignotus Peverell." Harry answered, not seeing the harm. She nodded and placed her cup back down again, before giving him a valuating look.  
"You do have the look about you. That hair is all Potter and you do have a bit of Black refinement about the face too." She stated with a dry tone, apparently not too happy to give him what must have been a compliment coming from a Black.  
"I was unaware that the Peverell name was being used again. Who were your parents?" She asked, staring at him intently.

"Who his blasted parents were doesn't bring us closer to catching Crouch!" Moody growled, redirecting Mrs Malfoys attention back on himself and sending Harry a warning glare.  
"Does your husband know where the little louse might be hiding out?" Moody asked, making her stiffen in her seat.

"You will have to ask him that yourself, I don't get involved in my husband's affairs." She answered glancing at an old Grandfather clock with bored eyes.  
"I'm afraid I have another appointment that suddenly came up. Thank you for the company, Kreacher will show you out." She said standing up, motioning towards the doorway where Kreacher stood waiting.

"You will let me know if you hear anything about Crouch or your sister, for your son's sake if nothing else." Moody stated more than asked, as they moved away from the small table, causing her to nod stiffly.

"I do have something that may be of use." Mrs Malfoy said suddenly, turning around, causing Moody to follow her back into the drawing room.

Harry was left alone in the hallway with Kreacher, who eyed him fixedly.  
"Master is the true Master but not the Master now. Kreacher is confused but loyal to Master of Noble Black house." The house elf stuttered, bowing low. Harry eyed him in hope, so the elf did feel that they had a bond, he'd wondered at the look he'd received.

"Do you remember the locket Kreacher?" Harry whispered, glad to have been able to say his name, hoping to jog the elf's memory.

Kreacher's eyes widened comically before he stepped back in fear.  
"Master knows of Kreacher's failure!" The elf gasped, pointing a shaking finger at Harry who nodded slowly.  
"Can Master destroy it, Kreacher wonders?" He asked, eyeing Harry hopefully.

"You have it here?" Harry asked, looking at the elf's empty neck, before realising that Kreacher must have forgotten that it had been destroyed already.

"Master Regulus ordered Kreacher to destroy it or keep it safe from dark wizards, it is always near Kreacher never far away." Kreacher whispered before disappearing with a quiet pop. Harry cast a searching look at Mrs Malfoy and Moody who stood talking in the drawing room still. Mrs Malfoy was holding a letter in her hands and looked unsure about what to do with it, Moody had both eyes on it.  
"Kreacher has brought the locket for Master to destroy." Harry jumped, he'd not heard Kreacher reappear. The elf handed him a small fabric parcel and Harry carefully unfolded the black cloth before closing his hand tightly round it with a shocked gasp. The locked was whole, Harry could feel it! _His_ presence, it was alive.

"Well let's get moving lad, no need to keep Mrs Malfoy from her appointment." Moody ordered, pushing past the dazed Harry.

"Mr Peverell, it was a pleasure." Mrs Malfoy said in parting when Harry went to follow Moody down the stairs. He gave her a small nod before following Kreacher, who had taken the lead, to the open door and out of the house he'd lived in before.

"We've got her now!" Moody growled, eyes sparkling wildly.

"Who? Mrs Malfoy?" Harry asked puzzled, getting an annoyed look from Moody.

"Bellatrix Lestrange, boy! Weren't you paying any attention?" Moody barked crossly, waving the letter in Harry's face.  
"Ha, ha! Never get between a mother and her only son!" Moody crowed looking excited, which didn't happen often.  
"Why don't you apparate us back home lad, impress me." Moody ordered, making Harry gape before he took the chance. They appeared on the front step of Moody's house in the same state they'd left, much to Moody's approval after a thorough inspection to make sure no body parts were missing, other than those that were supposed to be.  
"You've got the rest of the day off." Moody informed Harry, who perked up as he needed time alone with the locket.

Harry had also been trying to read up on history and the way it differed from what he remembered. Moody had handed him folders upon folders on people of interest, when he'd gathered that Harry was interested in Voldemort's downfall. The old Auror was the most paranoid person alive, Harry was almost sure that the man had pretty much every witch or wizard in Britain under surveillance. It was all good of course but really paranoid and he wondered if the man had started a new one on him, Harry.

Making sure his room was closed, Harry moved to the desk intent on bringing the locket out for another look before stopping. It was probably best to wait until Moody was out before he brought _it_ out, the Auror usually went out for a short inspection of the neighbourhood before bed. Settling in for a long wait Harry dragged one of the folder over and snorted.  
Bellatrix Lestrange, dangerous! Was written on the front in bold letters. Sounded about right, Harry mused as he flicked through it half-heartedly his thoughts still firmly on the locket.  
He jumped at the sudden knock on his door.  
"I'm heading out for a few hours, we're starting early tomorrow. Be ready!" Moody said ominously, making Harry groan. They'd left the house early this morning and Moody hadn't felt the need to warn him yesterday, which meant tomorrow would start in the middle of the night using Moody's logic.  
"We're leaving at dawn, you hear me!" Moody called, already halfway down the stairs.

"I hear you!" Harry answered, rolling his eyes when the front door slammed shut with an echoing bang.  
"Stupid dawn…" Harry grumbled, standing from the chair. He looked out the window to make sure Moody wasn't spying on him from the street, not that he'd done that since Harry had spotted him on his second day as a houseguest. When all seemed clear he quickly moved to the bed, where he pulled out the small black parcel he'd been given. He drew a deep breath before shaking the locket out onto the bed.  
"Damn." Harry cursed, eying it in confusion. Why was it whole again?  
He knew that he hadn't time travelled, the dates were right. But perhaps someone else had done it, travelled back in time and changed the future. But then why would Harry remember the previous timeline if he hadn't been part of travelling? Harry's head spun in different direction.  
Perhaps they hadn't destroyed all the Horcruxes after all and one of them had done this, caused this curse or whatever it was to happen. But it didn't explain why people who were supposed to be dead appeared to live.

Harry froze, eyes suddenly locked on the Horcrux lying on his bed. What about the other ones? Crouch Jr had been wanting a book from the Malfoy's, the Diary Harry guessed. Had they given it to him?  
"Kreacher!" Harry called, surprised when the elf appeared with a soft pop.

"Kreacher hears Masters call and comes." Kreacher said, bowing low before stiffening at the sight of the locket.

"Kreacher, I need you to ask Mrs Malfoy if Barty Crouch Jr got the book he wanted. Can you do that?" Harry asked.  
"It's very important and will help me bring honour to Master Regulus quest to end Vol…The Dark lord." Harry said, pausing at Voldemort's name, when the elf didn't take his eyes of the locket.

"Kreacher will ask Mistress, Master will not be disappointed in Kreacher." Kreacher promised before disappearing, leaving Harry feeling nauseated. He could not do it again, go hunting for the Horcruxes, not alone. He didn't even know if they still were in the same place as before.  
The rest of the evening was spent in quiet contemplation as he waited for Kreacher to return. He'd hidden the locket in his money pouch, intending to drop it off at Gringotts at some point tomorrow, to keep Moody from catching wind of it.

"Get up! You lazy bag of teenage bones!" Moody barked, jolting Harry from the dream he'd had.

"Um ready." Harry mumbled rubbing sleep from his eyes. He'd gone to bed fully clothed, not sure what time dawn would make its appearance. He had a brownie laid out on the desk, which he grabbed as he stumbled after Moody.  
"Where are we going?" He asked, blinking tiredly at Moody who stood battle ready by the front door eyeing him with a funny look.

"You're alright lad, you're alright." Moody mumbled, grabbing Harry's shoulder and pulling him out of the house before apparating them away.

"I really wish you'd warn me before you do that." Harry muttered, eyeing the deserted Diagon Alley they'd appeared at.

"Keeps you on your toes." Moody said cheerfully.  
"Here's your Apparition license, I collected a favour from someone who didn't want to owe me anymore." Moody said, looking away when Harry stared at him in wonder.  
"Well! Do you want it or not!" He barked, holding the small card out for Harry to take. He waved Harry's attempt at thanking him with a gruff snort before stalking off up the street leaving Harry to follow.  
"Do you know how to cast the Disillusionment Charm?" Moody asked, when Harry caught up, looking happy to see Harry nod.  
"Do it, we're staking out the bank. Lestrange might show up, I want her caught." Moody whispered, leaning closer giving Harry a pointed stare.  
"We will catch her, got it lad. We will." He said, pulling out an invisibility cloak from his pocket. Harry quickly cast the charm before seating himself against the wall next to the bank. This was going to be a long day, Harry was sure of it.  
Moody shushed him, when he sighed too loudly and then silence descended.

Harry counted the stones before him on the ground again, bored out of his mind after just a few hour of stakeout.  
"Go get us a sandwich each lad." Moody ordered suddenly, his hand appearing from nothing to hand him a few coins.  
"No eggs!" He ordered when Harry hurried to flee, in case Moody changed his mind about letting him leave.

Harry didn't dare take too long and was soon walking back up the street again, taking bites of his sandwich with relish.  
Tom, the barkeep at the Leaky Cauldron, hadn't been too impressed when Harry nearly gave him a heart attack by asking for two sandwiches whilst still under the Disillusionment Charm. The pub hadn't really been open for business but as Harry had been seen with Moody enough times, Tom had muttered something about crazy Aurors before getting the order sorted. Harry had apologised profusely about both the scare and the early time. The clock had just been creeping up to six o'clock when he'd left the bar, which meant it was about six fifteen now, Moody was crazy Harry thought shaking his head.  
"Took your sweet time didn't you." The Invisible Moody growled, snatching his sandwich from Harry's hand, making him jump.  
"Sit here and don't move, I'm going to check Knockturn Alley for any signs. If you see or hear anything you send up a green flare. And make yourself less noticeable!" Moody ordered before the sound of him stomping off could be heard.

Harry took another bite of his sandwich before sticking the rest into a pocket for later. He'd been alone for just a few minutes, time enough to cast the Disillusionment Charm on himself again, when he saw her. Bellatrix Black, her hood raised to hide her face. She looked more haggard than he'd ever seen her, but more alive than after Mrs Weasley got hold of her.  
Bellatrix eyed the bank with tired looking eyes before making for the entrance doors and the hidden Harry.

Harry raised his wand to stun her when he remembered the Horcrux in her vault, he wouldn't get another chance if she was caught and sent back to Azkaban. He held his breath for a second as she climbed the steps towards the doors and then quickly flicked his wand at her.

"Madam Lestrange." A Goblin greeted, one of the few by a till at this early hour. He eyed the sneering Bellatrix with indifferent eyes and gave the space where the disillusioned Harry was, a quick look before accepting the wand held out by a shaking hand.

"Take us to my vault." She ordered in a clipped tone, hand held out to accept her wand back.

"If you follow me." The Goblin said, after a minute look at the wand, leading her and Harry towards the doors leading off the hall. They entered a cart and Harry only then remembered what had happened the last time he'd Imperiused someone here at the bank. He expected to be hit by the waterfall at any time but it never came, instead they got out of the cart in front of the Lestrange Vault. Harry glanced back once, towards the darkness where the Dragon had been last time but didn't see anything move. Perhaps they hadn't found another one to replace it with, he mused.  
Bellatrix entered her vault and scooped up some Galleons into a pouch and then stood waiting for Harry to direct her. She collected the cup easily, without setting off any protective spells and Harry obliviated her as soon as she handed him the cup. He opted out of going past his own vault until he could come back on his own and soon they were standing in the morning sunshine again.

Harry quickly stunned her and bound her in several binding spells, glad to have had Hermione as his friend, before sending up a thin green flare. There were a few people milling about on the street and they all stopped to stare at the sudden sight.  
"There's nothing to see here! Auror business, so mind your own!" Moody's voice called out loudly before the man himself threw his cloak off.  
"Merlin's beard boy, grab my arm now." Moody hissed at the still hidden Harry, who made sure to keep Bellatrix in a firm grip even though Moody grabbed her arm roughly himself. They disappeared with an echoing pop.

"We've got her! Bring the Veritaserum! Bring the shackles! Call for the Dementors! "Moody screamed as they appeared in what had to be a Ministry room, Harry calmly undid the charm on himself. Five people came running towards them ready for battle before they spotted the deranged looking Moody and a tired Harry in the apparition area.

"Looks like a definitive _he_ to me, Mad-eye. Maybe you need to have the eye checked again." One of the Aurors said, causing the others to guffaw.

"Not him you moron! _Her_!" Moody exclaimed glaring at the Auror as Harry, who figured they'd want to get Bellatrix under heavier protection, undid the Disillusionment Charm.  
Several of the Aurors shouted things at the same time, making Harry wince.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here!? I don't come in early for you…You!" A voice barked, causing blessed silence to descend into the room.  
"Moody, you are retired. I've told you once and I will tell you…" The man trailed off at the sight of the stunned Bellatrix Lestrange lying on the floor behind Moody.  
"My office, now!" Rufus Scrimgeour ordered, glaring daggers at a smug looking Moody.  
"Get her out of here and somewhere secure! And don't let her out of your sight!" He ordered, making the Aurors jump into action.  
"You are not authorised to apprehend fugitives anymore!" Scrimgeour all but screamed at Moody as they both limped towards the man's office.

"I didn't." Moody said calmly, causing Scrimgeour to stop.  
"My assistant did." He added, turning to eye Harry smugly.

"Erm, here's her wand." Harry offered, handing it to the nearest Auror who stared at him dumbfounded before quickly grasping hold of Bellatrix wand.

"He, caught her?" Scrimgeour asked, giving Harry a once over. Eyes resting on the half eaten sandwich sticking out of his pocket, where he'd put it for later thinking it was going to be a long day.  
"Who the hell is he!?" He asked, turning to eye Moody angrily.  
"I'm not having you building your own army Alastor! There are procedures to follow, laws to be upheld, Auror training to be done!" He added furiously before he was interrupted.

"Harry? What are you doing…Sir! Good morning sir! Mr Moody Sir!" Cadet Jones exclaimed, dropping the folder he'd been carrying in his excitement at the sight of Moody. Scrimgeour looked scandalised at the behaviour.  
"Sorry Mr Scrimgeour." Jones muttered bending down to collect the loose papers scattered on the floor, face going red. Harry moved to help him but was stopped by the furious glare Scrimgeour sent him.

"You, will stay away from Auror business if you know what's good for you, boy! I will not have Moody's little lap dogs running interference!" Scrimgeour spat looking between the still smug looking Moody and the rather put out Harry.

"Oh, don't worry! I have no intention of ever working for you." Harry sneered, before giving Moody a pointed look and turning on his heel intending to go back home and go back to sleep.

"Where do you think you're going boy! We are not done here!" Scrimgeour called out furiously behind him.

"Oh but we are Rufus. I'm sure you'll be very busy explaining how a seventeen year old lad caught a high security fugitive on his own, when your own Aurors haven't had any headway at even finding her." Moody said, before following in Harry's footsteps.  
"Good luck Rufus." He said, before apparating himself and the waiting Harry out of the building.  
"Good lord lad but you're alright." Moody chortled, patting Harry's shoulder. He started laughing as they headed up the steps to the house and didn't stop until he'd pulled out a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet for a celebratory shot. Harry eyed him worriedly before shrugging and heading for the stairs, he was going to bed and staying there.

* * *

 _So what is the verdict on this one?  
E_


End file.
